She Won't Ever Get Enough
by INMH
Summary: For the love bingo challenge, prompt "Making Out". Sequel to "Went a Little Like This". Nothing gave him more pleasure. I guess you could say the story sets you up for the romance and then knocks you down a bit.


She Won't Ever Get Enough

**Rating:** PG-13/T

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Summary:** For the love_bingo challenge, prompt "Making Out". Nothing gave him more pleasure. I guess you could say the story sets you up for the romance and then knocks you down a bit.

**Author's Note:** I was actually working on a Temil piece for the prompt, but then _this_ struck me, and I thought: "You have plenty of Temil stories in the process of being written, but this is the definition of a rare-pair: WRITE WHILE YOU HAVE THE INSPIRATION!"

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville. It belongs to Jerry Siegal, Joe Shuster and the CW.

()()

Making-out was the best thing in the _world_.

Nothing gave him more pleasure. It was a physical joining that brought him as close to her as he could hope to get, at least without getting caught and having her banned from the house forever. It felt far less like the touching of lips, and more like the intertwining of their souls, a comparison she had made first.

"When we are apart, we are two," She said, eyes burning with a controlled but furious fire. "When we are together, we are one." Then she'd kissed him again. She could make _everything_ sound so poetic, so beautiful. It was hard to resist her when she started getting prose-y. And in spite of his advanced intellect, he was still at the age where he was easily impressed, especially by those he respected.

And he definitely respected her.

Every kiss felt like a rush of electricity, overloading him to the point where he almost felt like he could explode. She was a rush of energy, his power source, more powerful than any yellow sun. She made him burn, made him alight with a fire that raced to every inch of his body, made him feel like he could fight off an army of unspeakable horrors with the strength it gave him.

She was a thing of beauty and magnificence, dignity and grace, and it was something of an honor to be worthy of her attention: That of all the men she could have chosen, she chose him. What more could he ever want than to be her other half, because clearly there was no greater pleasure beyond what he received from her, and she from him.

There's was a love for the ages. No two beings had ever been more right for one another, and to be separated from her was surely a fate worse than death itself. To not have his lips against hers was lonesome and agonizing enough. To be disconnected was dead, and to be connected was to be apart of something larger than himself, a rolling wave of pure, unadulterated, utter, rolling _passion-_

"All right, all right, _enough!_"

Conner felt something whack him in the back, and he turned around to see a very irritated Lois Lane standing behind him, holding a broom. Maxima rolled her eyes, similarly annoyed, and looked dangerously close to almost throwing Lois through the barn again (wouldn't be the first time they'd almost had an accident of the violent sort). "Lois! Come on!"  
"No way, Conner! You two have been at it for the last forty-five minutes! Break it up before I turn the hose on you!" Conner rolled his eyes and let his head fall to the left, towards the barn wall. He and Maxima had been there since they had gotten home from school (Had it really been forty-five minutes? Time passed quickly when you were having fun).

"_Fine_. Come on, Max. Sure Tess will be very happy to see us making out in front of the Daily Planet." He smirked deviously at Lois, and he and Maxima dashed off.

Lois went pale. "Crap_._ Well, there goes my raise._ Clark! We have a problem!_"

In a second, her fiancée had joined her. "Where'd they go?"

"To Metropolis. By the way, expect a pretty angry phone-call from Tess within the next twenty minutes. She'll probably ask us why the hell her little clone-brother is making out with the alien-chick that tried to kill her outside of her workplace." Lois cringed, and Clark sighed.

"We really need to find a way to counteract the effects of those endorphins on his system. He's become so… So…"

"Mushy? Gushy? Brain-Dead? Up the hormonal-teenager creek without a paddle?" Clark blinked.

"I was going to say 'Love-Sick'." Lois shrugged.

"I guess that works too."

-End


End file.
